129, 1/2

Erick asked, “What’re Treehome’s death-to-monsters statistics?”

“You’re here, in this space, and that’s what you ask?” Koropo laughed a little, then asked, “Is this the first time you’ve had this question?” He looked upon Erick, and said, “You didn’t actually know what you were offering us, did you?”

Erick ignored that last part of Koropo’s little interrogation, then said, “This is a lot more than I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“The conference room under Wyrmrest. From before.”

Koropo smiled a hard, happy grin, exposing his large lower fangs, saying, “It’s not every day the city of Treehome and the orcol people conspire with an archmage to rid a pair of monsters from the world. Of course this would be a big event, and what better place than the Red Henge?”

When Erick woke up this morning, he had expected directions to the conference room from before. Instead, Poi directed them to a large area in the mountains overlooking Treehome, that was anything but a simple staging area.

It was a ritual site according to everything Erick saw, from the pillars of stone lifted from the mountain like it was the older, much larger cousin to Stonehenge, to the plateaus all around where large red crystals strained against massive silver chains and bindings, struggling to soar up and away. If one were to watch with Meditation active, like Erick did, they would see that power hung in the air, in the manasphere, like red rivers barely held back from flooding the world. But even to normal sight, power circled the floating crystals and cycled through the Red Henge, winding and curling like a small part of the manasphere plucked out of the whole.

Hundreds of orcols stood outside of the main area, organized into loose groups of five to six. Quite a lot of them wore some sort of uniform-ish plate armor or standard-issue robes, but a lot more wore whatever they felt like. Some were in loincloths and wrappings. Others wore feathers and cloaks. Some had swords or staves or spears, while almost everyone had a knife at their belt. Magic laid heavy on them and Erick could tell a lot of their armor was conjured, but some had true metal armor and weapons and otherwise.

It was upon those who wore only magic that Erick saw the red rivers in the sky curling into them, but not sinking into their souls. Instead, that red river sunk into their magic, strengthening it, perhaps. Or perhaps sustaining it in an easier manner than their users could on their own.

But it was on the plateaus of the Red Henge where the real organization would take place. It was there that people set up [Viewing Screen]s of all sorts. Erick knew some of the people in that space. Peron was there, and he saw Erick, but immediately turned away to look upon a [Viewing Screen] and talk to someone operating that screen. Chieftain Bloodwoo Nosier, that massively tall orcol, spoke to other similar-height orcols, the group of them standing under a central floating crystal that was redder than red.

None of the two thousand people here were obviously anxious, but Erick was certainly getting there.

“What is this place, anyway?” Erick asked.

Koropo nodded, then looked out over the land with Erick, saying, “A ritual site dedicated to mastery over the Forest. Our people come here when they need to vent their Rage over lost loved ones. Occasionally, people come here to take that Rage back, and commit vengeance against our enemies in the Green. It is said that when the Rage Wars ended, it was because of sites like this siphoning away the Rage from our people and into Aloethag. Many people have mixed feelings about this place, but it is certainly useful when the time is right, and there can be no better ‘right’ time than this.”

Erick looked to a pair of women that soaked up the Rage in the air, asking, “Is that what’s happening over there?”

Koropo followed Erick’s sight, then said, “Yes. They’re both priestesses of Aloethag.”

That threw Erick for yet another loop. “Those exist? I thought… Well. I’m not sure what I thought.”

“I can guess what you thought.” Koropo gave a weird expression halfway between a scrunched face and embarrassment. Erick couldn’t really tell what that was all about. Koropo said, “It’s complicated.”

In retrospect, it was obvious that priests and priestesses of Aloethag would exist. Whatever was going on there was probably not all that complicated, really. If gods controlled someone’s life, some of those people were bound to worship those gods. It was the same with the shadelings and Melemizargo.

Erick asked, “So? Statistics?”

Koropo huffed, then said, “We’ve got 9 million orcols of Treehome, with 40% being permanent residents. There’s rarely any monster deaths inside the city, itself. Mostly, those deaths come from people who explore the nearby Forest and suddenly find themselves overwhelmed. We have maybe 15,000 dead per year due to various monsters. Moon Reachers account for anywhere between 1,500 to 3,000 of those, though it’s hard to say. Some estimates have them at much lower than that, simply because we don’t know how a lot of people die when they die to monsters. If there’s matted silver fur at the scene then it’s obvious those ones were killed by Reachers, but that doesn’t happen all that often.

“Deathsoul Shrooms account for much higher casualty rates inside the city, itself, because once that infection takes hold and the soul starts to corrupt, then there’s no practical way to save the person. We have much better numbers on that one, at around 5,500 per year.

“All those numbers are completely inadequate when it comes to deaths of our transient orcols. We guess that there’s 22,000 orcols who die to Moon Reachers per year. Maybe 18,000 to Deathsoul Shrooms. Both Shrooms and Reachers have a much easier time operating outside of Treehome.

“For total orcol deaths per year from monsters and other Forest issues, you have to account for the total orcol population of Glaquin, and that’s only a little bit higher than Treehome’s 9 million, at about 10 million.

“Total orcol deaths per year, via monsters, across the Forest, is about 110,000 people. Monsters, as a whole, are the single greatest killers of our people.”

Erick blinked, then looked out across Treehome, then further, to see the Forest beyond. “Burning it all down and starting again seems like a great idea.”

“Aye.” Koropo gazed out with Erick, saying, “If the Prognosticators are wrong about the impact of removing the Moon Reachers, burning it all down and starting again will be the next task. We hope we’re not wrong.”

“Why not have everyone be a city orcol, then?” Erick asked, “Build some proper walls? Let anyone live there who wants to live there?”

Almost laughing, Koropo said, “Then we wouldn’t be who we are, Erick. We’d be caging ourselves, and we will never be caged, Erick; No. We fight fang and nail for our little slice of this world. Even if the monsters were a thousand times worse, we would still get up and keep fighting, because that is who we are. To do anything less would be a disservice to our neighbors, our children, and our parents; our tribe.” He added, “A lot of the transient tribes don’t ever want to be city orcols, either. I had a rather serious relationship once that broke down because she didn’t want to become a city orcol. A lot of city orcols have that same experience.”

“Sorry that didn’t work out for you.”

“Aye. It’s in the past. But thanks anyway.”

Erick asked, “Where do I go?”

“We still got a while yet before actual go-time. Maybe half an hour. A few other Elders need to show.” Koropo said, “But you can be anywhere you want, really. You don’t even have to do it from here, if you don’t want, but this is our base of operations. Everything that happens today will be coordinated from here.” He pointed to one of three empty stone platforms, saying, “That’s the spot we have for you, if you want it.”

“I will take it.” Erick said, “I also need some sort of sample of a Deathsoul Shroom, preferably some physical piece of one, if possible. I’m confident in my ability to find Moon Reachers since I have researched and seen them through Ophiel and can easily acquire my own samples, but researching Deathsoul Shrooms is not the same as seeing them and knowing them for what they are, and I am wary about approaching them with Ophiel out in the wild.”

Erick had found a few Adult Shrooms out in the Forest, but he had read about them, and he did not want his first experience with those monsters to be without supervision.

“Of course, Archmage. I will see it done.” He paused, then asked, “Do you know how to deal with a Shroom?”

“Vaguely, but if you know any tips, I’ll be glad to hear them.”

Koropo nodded. “Then I must explain that first before I find you your samples— Actually.” He swept his eyes across the people all around, and settled on Chieftain Bloodwoo Nosier. “He should explain. He would have those samples, too.”

Koropo stepped toward the tall orcol’s platform and Erick followed, feeling like a kid running after a grownup. An aide to Bloodwoo saw Erick coming and notified the chieftain, who then turned, and looked down upon Erick, for Bloodwoo was nearly four meters tall. Well over twice Erick’s height.

Erick came up to the man, feeling tiny, as he said, “Hello, Bloodwoo.”

Koropo stood to the side.

“Erick. Warchief.” Bloodwoo regarded them both. “Do you need anything from me while we are setting up?”

Koropo looked down to Erick.

Erick said, “I have no personal experience with Deathsoul Shrooms. Do you have samples that aren’t too deadly? Perhaps a proper explanation of the Shroom life cycle, so that I’m not missing anything obvious when I search for them? Are they, perhaps, several different shroom monsters at once? Or anything like that, really.”

Bloodwoo said, “Of course.” He held his hand out to the side, conjuring a large image of an orcol—

And then he instantly dismissed it.

He said, “I am being informed by Nosier that he wishes to personally tell you of our targets, as well as give you a sample. We have time, if you would agree to such a diversion. My Arbor also wishes to personally thank you for the recorder, and to ask you how it works and what ways there could be to improve upon the physical object.”

Erick smiled, then said, “Sure. Ten percent of the day’s treasure haul for an explanation of the recorder.”

Bloodwoo narrowed his large eyes. “Five.”

“Ten.”

“Seven.”

“Twelve.”

“… Ten.”

“I’m glad we could come to such a quick arrangement.”

“You agreed to take no treasure from this hunt, and we agreed to not speak ill of your involvement with the commune.” Bloodwoo said, “That you use this opportunity to take what was already promised to us does not bode well for future engagement.”

“Don’t pretend like you aren’t still happy.” Erick said, “You or Nosier, for that matter. I’m not sure which one of you I just bargained with. And I’m pretty sure that a lot of stuff everyone finds is going to get ‘lost’ in the hunt, as well it should; these people are risking their lives out there.” He added, “And a lesson on recorders was outside of that bargain, anyway.”

Bloodwoo hummed, then said, “Meet me at Nosier’s Roots.” And then he blipped away in a smattering of red.

Erick wrapped himself and Poi in light, and followed.

– – – –

Erick stepped out of the light and into the shadows of Nosier, right next to Bloodwoo, on the side of the road leading in toward Nosier.

Above and before and all around them, the boughs of Arbor Nosier wrapped into each other to form arches and support structures and the central, kilometer-tall and kilometer-wide hollow ‘wicker-basket’ that was Nosier’s ‘trunk’. Inside of those protective ‘roots’, lay Nosier’s magic laboratories, where streams of smoke and clouds of color flowed into the air, out of gaps between roots, and apprentices and masters alike made the magical items that helped a lot of Treehome to function. The Grand [Prestidigitation] Stove in Erick’s hotel room was made here, as well as the anti-magic runes that went into every other wall and protected space in the various Districts of Treehome. This was a semi-public space, with people streaming in and out all day long.

A pair of guards were stationed by the [Teleport] zone where Bloodwoo and Erick and Poi had come in. They noticed Erick and Poi, but focused on Bloodwoo, and bowed.

Bloodwoo walked toward an archway ahead, saying, “This shouldn’t take too long.”

Erick kept up, but it was a near miss. With Koropo, Erick had felt like a child, but with Bloodwoo, he felt like a small child racing to keep up with an adult.

Bloodwoo took them right past security, sweeping by students and masters alike, to a central elevator, and then to the left, to a smaller elevator. He went in, and Erick and Poi followed. With the push of a button that was actually out of Erick’s reach, and which Bloodwoo pressed the second Erick and Poi were inside, the elevator went up, and up.

“You walk rather fast!” Erick playfully said, as they ascended.

“It is a big day and after this meeting we will be leaving the faster way.” Bloodwoo said, “I hope you can deliver on your promises, Erick. It would be a true embarrassment for you if you cannot.”

“I can.” Erick said, “And if we miss a few, then this could be a yearly thing.”

“Hmm. Quite. Realistically, we hope to cull 95% of the problem. We wish for 100% of course, but the Forest is full of mountains and valleys and densities of magic that make conventional Scanning impossible.” Bloodwoo asked, “How is it that your Scan works so much better than all the rest?”

“Ah. Well.” Erick wanted to shut Bloodwoo down, to not answer any questions about [Cascade Imaging], but instead, he asked, “What will you offer for a half-answer?”

“More goodwill and charitable future interaction. Also, we will up our previous 10 percent to 15 percent.”

“… You tell me how you think it works, and I’ll tell you how close you are.”

Bloodwoo was a man who didn’t like beating around the bush, and so he immediately said, “You are Light aligned, and your first forays into magic were Particle-based and also light based, as evidenced by your advancements in the field of Stat enchantment. You assaulted everything I thought I knew about gem enchanting and mana light and the fundamental nature of this reality, so I would say your [Cascade Imaging] has to do with light, but not Light.”

Erick heard the inflection between ‘light’ and ‘Light’ and knew he probably had a dumb look on his face, for Bloodwood looked down at him, and smiled. Erick was about to speak when the elevator stopped, and Bloodwoo wordlessly stepped out into a hallway.

Erick followed, saying, “So… You… Uh. Imaging is Particle Mage only, though.”

“Of course it is.” Bloodwoo said, “And I’m trying to raise up some good Particle Mages myself for just that reason. We’ve got a whole class of them studying those new Particle Spells you’ve made, but I doubt a single one will actually acquire the Class. If a single one of them gets [Cascade Imaging] I will qualify the whole affair as a success. Nosier is hoping for [Control Weather] or possibly [Call Lightning].”

“Ah. Ha.” Erick said, “[Call Lightning] should be up in a few weeks.”

“13 days.”

“… 13 days?” Erick thought back to last year. “That can’t be right.”

“13 days,” Bloodwoo repeated.

“… But?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Bloodwoo walked through an archway made of stone and roots, to a room lined with glass boxes each a meter across, saying “That’s the number I heard from multiple sources, including Rozeta.”

While that number now loomed over Erick’s head, he peered into the glass boxes of the room and briefly forgot about his new deadline, for every single box was filled with rotten meat. Bones and sinew. Guts and cartilage. There was no smell, for the room itself was perfectly clean and normal, made of thick stone and filled with the dense, green Domain of Nosier. But that Domain was even thicker near the gore in the glass boxes, like it was holding something back. Erick instantly had the Ophiel on his shoulder turn on [Soul Sight].

Each pile of gore was absolutely awash in the Shroud of some large soul.

“Are these all… Are these all Deathsoul Shrooms?” Erick asked, suddenly aware that this was a very dangerous room, and while that glass looked thick and warded, he still felt a tingle of fear crawl down the back of his neck. It was almost the same fear as standing in front of a Shade for the first time, but Erick knew that these things were almost worse than Shades, for they played no games. They just consumed, and sought to consume even more. “And Nosier…?” His voice trailed off.

“Nosier holds them down, preventing them from continuing to grow. It is a good method for strengthening his own soul defenses.” Bloodwoo said, “Every Arbor does this. You would need to do this with your Yggdrasil, eventually.”

“… Oh.” Erick looked to the piles of gore, whispering, “They look a lot like the book said, but not quite.”

A new person stepped out of the air, into the center of the room, saying, “They are juveniles.”

Erick instantly recognized the man as the humanoid-form of Nosier, for his soul and everything else about him resembled O’kabil’s orcol-body form. His stature, though, was closer to Bloodwoo’s; very tall, and rather skinny. But instead of wearing normal robes, like his chieftain, Nosier wore robes of emerald light, the same color as the Domain all around them.

Bloodwoo said, “The gore is but a disguise of the child spore, designed to lure in new hosts. It usually succeeds. Adult Deathsoul Shrooms do not have to resemble this form, but the Adults usually have juveniles around them at all points in time, so this form is rather what people think of when they think of Deathsoul Shrooms.”

Nosier gazed down at Erick. “That deal about ‘telling us how close we are’; How close are we to [Cascade Imaging]?”

Erick deflected toward the Shrooms, saying, “I need some dead spore for a sample.”

“How dead?” Nosier asked, “Ash? Would ash work?”

Another ploy for information.

Erick saw a way around that, saying, “Ash would never work for Blood Magic.”

“So it is Blood Magic?”

Erick doubled down, “I need an inert sample for [Cascade Imaging].”

“How would you go about obtaining such a thing?”

“How would you?”

Nosier eyed Erick, saying, “Lock it in a [Ward]ed space and investigate it as needed with an Elemental Body of appropriate make. [Greater Lightwalk] or the Shadow variant would be my first choices. Touching it with your skin is even more dangerous than touching it with your soul, so don’t ever touch it.”

“Really?” Erick said, “Would that even work?”

Bloodwoo said, “Deathsoul Shrooms are particularly deadly to mages, for Health is one of the best ways to withstand soul and body attacks. Your inflated Health due to your rings might allow you a brief window in which to touch the actual spore and not become infected, but I would not chance it.”

Nosier said, “Most healthy people and almost every animal out there focuses on Strength and Vitality, and can fend off a Deathsoul Shroom infestation, but not always. Pass by a large enough clump of them and they can [Soul Burn] you into submission and then latch on.” He gestured to the glass cages, saying, “These ones are tiny and relatively safe compared to a real infestation, but even they would be striking you right this moment if not for my overriding soul. Have you ever had anti-soul-manipulation training?”

“I have not had much experience with soul attacks; no.” Erick frowned, saying, “And as you can see, I am not in that great of a shape for such training.”

“Yes. I can see that. So do you want to try holding a [Ward]ed glass sphere of Shroom, anyway?” Nosier said, “It would be nothing to prepare one of these for you. I often prepare them for others so that they can experience soul attacks to learn to defend from them, but if you need one for Scanning purposes then you need one, and I can give you one. I will, of course, keep an eye on your soul if you wish to Image from a room I have in here; I keep many [Scry] rooms active and pleasant, as would any proper host of mages.” He barreled on ahead, saying, “If O’kabil isn’t treating you right, I certainly will.”

“Thank you for the offer of hospitality, but I don’t feel like moving my stuff; no offense.”

Nosier hummed.

Erick said, “I will take you up on your offer of some soul watching help, and that orb, but I will be Imaging from that platform they have set up for me back at the monument, or whatever it’s called. Hopefully I only need the one exposure.”

Nosier nodded. “You still haven’t explained your Imaging for that extra 5% take.”

“… I don’t need that 5%.”

“We have books!” Nosier said, slightly pleading, and then he instantly calmed. He offered, “Many, varied books, full of magical knowledge. More than you. Almost as much as the Headmaster. Just tell me how the spell works over such a long range and I will open my libraries to you.”

Erick almost shut Nosier down again, but he considered what he knew, and what he knew was that Treehome was full of good people, even if they had been rather harsh on the shadelings, and on the Cultists. Erick didn’t have much personal interaction with Nosier so far, but he suspected that they would have a lot more interactions going forward. If anyone should have some information about [Cascade Imaging], then it should be Nosier, right?

Erick asked, “You can keep secrets?”

Nosier almost looked offended for half a second, then he lost the attitude, and said, “Of course.”

“… A hint, then, and that is all, for this touches upon something I don’t want to reveal yet.” Erick said, “[Cascade Imaging] doesn’t Image at the site. It Images at the cascading orb in the air. All of the magic of the spell is contained in that orb.”

Nosier suddenly breathed deep. Bloodwoo narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular.

Nosier glared, but there was no fire behind his gaze. “Another 5% for a better hint.”

“Nope. Sorry.” Erick said, “Cannot do. I have obligations to more than just you.”

Bloodwoo said, “We already suspected this, but to know is a boon.”

Nosier glared at Bloodwoo for a moment, then said, “Fine. It qualifies. 15% of the day’s declared take.” He added, “You were right about treasure not finding its way to us. We suspect we’ll lose out on over half of what is actually recovered. These are acceptable losses considering the gain.”

“I knew Moon Reachers and Deathsoul Shrooms were bad, but I didn’t know they were quite as bad as Koropo told me.” Erick said, “That man knows a lot.”

Bloodwoo said, “It is his job and place to know the numbers. This is expected.”

Nosier nodded, then casually reached over to one of the glass boxes of gore. With a twist of his green Domain, a small section of bone and gore snapped off of the pile inside and floated upward. The break left behind did not look like the rotten meat that it seemed to be, instead, it was like a cross section of a loaf of bread; airy and bubbly. The entire pile of gore truly was fake; a facade to fool anyone interested in an easy meal, to fool them into getting close and taking a bite.

If the spore in their mouth didn’t get them, the spores flowing up from the new break in the gore’s surface would have.

Erick switched on [Blood Sight], and saw the pile of gore as completely false. It was a living organism made of fake bones and fake blood and fake meat.

Wrapped in Nosier’s emerald Domain, that broken piece of the Deathsoul Shroom floated upward and toward the wall of the enclosure. With another twist of magic, Nosier plucked the sample into a bubble in the thick glass, and then out away from the enclosure. He picked the sample out of the air, holding it between a thumb and a forefinger that were each as big as Erick’s own forearm. The glass bubble was the size of Erick’s own fist; tiny, compared to the person holding it, and even smaller than that, when considering that the ‘person’ was actually the mana construct of a kilometers-wide Arbor.

Erick wondered, briefly, if the Script Second still applied to Arbors, or if they did all their casting manually, like the Shades.

Nosier cast several small spells over the glass sphere all in under a second, confirming what Erick had already suspected. He handed the sample to Erick, saying, “It will attack you when you touch the sphere with your lightform. Don’t let it get a foothold.”

Erick steeled himself, and took the sphere with a lightform tendril.

The distancing of the tendril did not work as well as Erick had hoped. As he touched the sphere, a cold fear ran up his spine. He breathed deeper, which was probably a method for the Deathsoul Shrooms to further invade a potential intruder. He calmed, even as his heart raced. He thought, even as his stomach quivered and his feet told him to run away and seek the safety of others.

He mumbled, “Which is yet another way it gets you to spread it…” He said, “These things are insidious, aren’t they—”

Nosier snatched the sphere from Erick’s lightform, saying, “That’s enough. That was rougher than I thought it would be.”

Erick glanced at his own soul and saw it was more or less the same. Still, he shivered as though he had just come out of the cold. “That was slightly disconcerting.” He breathed, shallow and controlled, then had an Ophiel that was already outside, move into the air directly over the center of Treehome.

Nosier cocked his head, just a bit, turning his eyes toward the center sky of the city.

Erick held his hand and his light out, saying, “Again. This time with Imaging.”

Nosier plopped the sphere down onto Erick’s waiting light.

Cold crawled across Erick’s back, into his chest, into his soul, as he flowed mana through his light and into the Deathsoul Shroom spores. Quick as a wink, he cast through that sample, searching for DNA at Ophiel’s resolving map, in the center of Treehome’s sky.

And then his lightform did something strange.

It crushed down onto the Deathsoul Shroom’s container, like a muscle out of control; a twitch, and a shatter. Glass broke. Ophiel squawked. False-gore splat—

Nosier locked down the very air, containing everything that should not have been broken in the first place. With a shove like a god tipping him backward, Erick landed two meters away from the broken sphere, falling into Poi’s arms. The shards of glass hovered back together, reforming their container around the now very dead Deathsoul Shroom.

Sweat rolled down Erick’s face as Bloodwoo looked down upon him, a look on his face as though he had been proven right about something.

Nosier’s body briefly turned translucent.

Poi righted Erick, then shivered himself. Erick stopped hyperventilating; when had he even started? Ah. Shit. That was scary. And then Erick laughed. Poi sighed.

Erick said, “Ah! Shit! That was terrifying!”

Bloodwoo sighed. “Quite.”

Poi shivered, again.

Nosier came back to his false body, and said, “A dangerous thing, that.” He glanced away, toward where Erick’s map lay, hovering and populating above Treehome. “But I think it worked.”

Erick turned his attention away from his own mortality, as he turned his eyes toward the Ophiel at the new map in the center of Treehome. The map came together with little blue dots exactly where Erick, Poi, and Bloodwoo stood; inside Nosier.

Erick relaxed a little, as he said, “So I guess that works.” With a small instruction, he sent a sunform Ophiel lightstepping deep into the Forest to the north, putting Ophiel far enough out that a second [Cascade Imaging] wouldn’t interfere with the first. And then he cast from memory, searching for Deathsoul Shrooms. While that second map populated, he asked, “So my Ophiel is beginning to get a Shroud. Any idea if he’d be subject to a Deathsoul Shroom?”

Nosier looked to the bundle of fluff and eyes on Erick’s shoulder, and said, “Impossible to know unless you try. I assume they’re all the same [Familiar]? You’d have to dismiss all of him if he gets infected to clear out any soul infection, but I don’t see that being a problem.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Erick glanced out to the second map, saw all the blue, then came back, wide-eyed, asking, “How many instances of these monsters do you expect to find today?”

“50,000 Moon Reachers. Several hundred square kilometers of Deathsoul Shrooms.” Bloodwoo said, “Conservative estimates.”

Nosier said, “I’m guessing 65,000 Reachers and 1,200 square kilometers of juvenile Shrooms, with at least a few hundred adult varieties. 350, probably.”

With Ophiel’s eyes glancing down upon something rather terrifying in the middle of the Forest, far away, Erick came back to himself, and said, “Ah. Yes. Adult Shrooms. Of course.” He breathed. He said, “I didn’t expect them to be that big. You know, you read about something, but then you see it. And. Well.”

“Oh!” Nosier asked, “Where?” He looked away. “Not near the city?”

Erick sent a telepathic pulse to Nosier, including the location of the second map. “Here.”

Nosier turned around to face northwest. “Ah! That is a big one. Are you going to kill it?”

Erick said, “I’m going to kill it now.”

And then he did, cracking the sky with light, pouring [Vivid Gloom] onto that faraway part of the Forest, gradually and yet quickly turning trees covered in gore and a central spire of fake bone, blood, and rotten flesh, into burned shrooms. The Forest caught on fire, briefly. The Forest fought back, briefly.

The Forest lost, completely.

For anyone else, fighting the adult Deathsoul Shroom would have been an act of heroism. A trial of a life, a hero fighting against a monster that was in fact a thousand monsters, each linked to each other and each pulling on the soul of anyone who tried to attempt its destruction. A man or woman fighting on the ground would have been stripped to their bare self, like an exposed nerve of a tooth, trying as they might to hold themselves together as they hacked and slashed and burned through suddenly appearing ghosts of everyone who had fallen to the Shroom before then.

Ghosts, in most cases, but also ‘flesh’ horrors that would not appear until later, after the ghosts had failed to eat the hero. Monsters of not-meat and not-bone would have pulled themselves from the piles, organizing themselves around fragmented souls, and the desire to hunt and add real flesh to their piles, or to spawn, and lay their spore in fertile flesh.

For even if the hero succeeded, they would likely be marked by the shroom; a latent infection, to come out in dreams and germinate at the base of the brain. That hero would then walk around their town, dripping slime that would become tiny piles of gore, to start the process all over again.

But for Erick, a few thousand kilometers away from the adult and casting spells through [Familiar]s that flew high in the sky, clearing out an adult infestation was as simple and as necessary as desiring such a thing. This was the power of an archmage, and it was not fair, though it was necessary.

Places like Treehome, and Spur, and many other places, would simply not exist if not for people like Erick. The monsters were too strong. They were too populous.

After the course of today and the following week, no doubt, some of those monster populations would be less populous, though, and that was good.

Erick cast a few more [Vivid Gloom]s, shaping them to be airy, clinging things, to seek out Erick’s targets and to drag those targets into its darkest, brightest, burning depths.

First, came the kill notifications, pouring in like sudden rain. Deathsoul Shrooms died by the hundreds of thousands, with not a single one being more than level 40 according to Erick’s focused Perception. They were colony monsters, after all. They probably shared in each monster they killed.

And then another blue box appeared, dominating the rest.

Erick felt a twitch in his soul as something slid some odd kinda way, almost like another muscle spasm. He dismissed the blue box, knowing it as useful. He hadn’t been trying for a new spell; not exactly. But he was happy with the one he had gotten. He kinda liked ooze and slime magic. It was always useful.

He looked up at Nosier and Bloodwoo, saying, “Thanks for this.” He added, “And about the music player, it just works off of recording the vibrations in the air. For my next version, I’m going to try something involving isolating individual sounds and then playing them all together on a few record players at once. Like, one for the deep sounds, another for the middle, another for the high. That sort of thing.”

Nosier said, “A good idea.” He crushed the sphere in his hands, annihilating the small amount of dead Shroom and glass, all at once, in a rather impressive, tiny display of power. And then he went on as if he hadn’t displayed such power, speaking like a nosy neighbor, or perhaps like an enthusiastic coworker, saying, “I have a method for reproducing song crystals from song crystals, but the fidelity fails around the third re-recording. And then there’s the problem of all magic items: they naturally decay. Yet another issue when it comes to recording from recordings.” He gestured away, saying, “But we can talk about that another time. Do you require some more Soul Palm Balm? Syllea might have her connections, but I also have connections too, you know.”

Erick said, “I would love a cup of tea before we begin the day’s events. I am feeling rather disconcerted after experiencing that soul attack; yes.” He glanced to Poi. “Do you want some, too?”

Poi shook his head.

Nosier gestured toward the door, saying, “I’ll meet you there. Bloodwoo can show you.”

And then he vanished in a sparkle of green.

Bloodwoo said, “This way,” as he walked out of the Deathsoul Shroom room.

Erick felt a whole lot better as he stepped out of that gory place. As he looked to Poi and saw the sapphire-scaled man visibly relax, he knew he had not been alone with his primal fear.

– – – –